


Let Me Explain

by Cheesecake_97



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Love, Surprises, what I wish would happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-04 13:38:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14594205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheesecake_97/pseuds/Cheesecake_97
Summary: What if season 7 had ended differently? This takes place around episodes 7x10- 7x12, cannon up to this point. I just got so upset about how poorly Quinn was remembered, that I had to do something about it. My first time writing again in over a year.  Enjoy!****** Chapter 5 is new, "You Ready?" *********





	1. I'm not OK.

 

It was just another mindless, terrible night. She didn't have Franny, and in losing her, felt like she was losing herself.  She was unmoored.  She wanted to believe she was getting better, that ECT was helping, but she was overcome with such hopelessness.  On nights like this she wished she could call Quinn, but she pushed such a ridiculous thought from her mind. Instead she called Max and rambled on a bit..  
  
"Why am I even here anymore Max? What is the f*ing point?"  
  
"Should I come over Carrie?"  
  
"No, no, I'm going out."  
  
She hung up and got dressed into something black and tight.  She needed a mindless hotel bar to try to forget everything. No banter.  No names. God, how long had it been since she played this games? Years and many miles, but she was back again, to escape the pain, the despair, that aching void. It didn't take long and her vision was blurry, and the room was swaying.  She didn't care. She didn't want to feel or think or remember... anything. Somewhere in the haze a voice said,  
  
"Let's get out of here."  
  
A large dark shape led her to the elevators. Her head was spinning, as the elevator went up. Her vision had doubled.

  _Was she suppose to be sober again? Nope... this was not a season in life to be sober and not tonight. Were they kissing? No. Was this random guy even touching her? No, not really. Must be an uptight loser or a prude... what a snore!_

But just as Carrie was deciding what to do with fuzzy, grey, boring guy, she realized she couldn't hold her liquor like she use to. As soon as the guy opened the hotel room door, a wave of nausea came over her and she ran to the bathroom. Silently he came in and knelt down next to her. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ears and gentled put a hand on her back. Something within her broke open and she cried and cried and cried til she felt like she couldn't cry anymore.  He just held her on the bathroom floor. In the haze she remembered being lifted onto the bed and the soft covers coming up around her.  In her delusional state she thought back to seeing Brody while being in Khan's arms and the delusions in the hospital, with all those people that she'd hurt. Then the world went dark.

When she woke again sunlight streamed through the hotel bedroom. She was still in her clothes from the night before and she was alone, again. She got up and went back home, trying not to think about what may or may not have happened the night before. She didn't remember his face and she didn't care to know his name.

Saul of course needed her, and just like that she was packing for Russia, stuffing down her feelings as much as she was stuffing clothes in a bag. Russia was an f*ing mess, of course things went wrong.  That's just what they do. As it became clear to Carrie she was not going to be able to get out, she set her jaw and was ready to wait it out.

"Read the statement, I won't ask again."

"Go to hell."

"That is exactly where I think you'll be going"

The door slammed, and Carrie's mind was racing.  She paced the room.  Just as her brain started to go into overdrive, the door opened again and three men suddenly grabbed her and threw a hood over her head and bound her hands.  They pushed her outside. The cold air ripped against her, sending shock waves of numb, cold and fear through her.  She was pushed into a vehicle and she heard a van door slam. They bumped along an unpaved road.   _Great, now starts the prisoner shuffle_ , thought Carrie.   _Moving me from place to place._  When the van stopped she could heard the roar of planes. They walked her onto the tarmac. There was some yelling in Russian and then he was shoved into a cargo plane seat. The massive door closed and the sheer volume of noise drowned out any conversation.  Her mind drifted and sleep finally over took her.

Eight hours later, still hooded, strong arms grabbed her and walked her off the plane. As soon as she was outside the air surrounding her was warm and somewhere she thought she smelled salty air. Was she near the sea? She tried to get her bearings as she was pushed into another van and another bumpy road. There was more Russian swearing but her mind was in such a fog that she couldn't pick out any words. Finally the vehicle stopped and she was dragged/ walked a few steps until she felt her feet on worn stone floors, the room echoed.  She sat down and suddenly a heavy wooden door slammed behind her. Her hands felt around and she concluded she was sitting on a wooden bench. She heard birds outside...  _seagulls_?  She thought in the distance she could hear the faint crash of waves. As she was trying to build a mental picture, the black hood was removed and her hands were suddenly freed. Bright flooded her eyes and she squinted back. She caught glimmers of stained glass and pews and a shape in front of her. The person wore a Glock on his hip and instinctively she grabbed for the hostler, and pointed the gun at her captor.

"Get the F*back or I'll shoot."

"What the f* Carrie?"

That familiar voice ripped through the chapel. Her mind went numb.  _This had to be a dream, a nightmare, a hallucination?_  She tried to make her eyes focus _. It couldn't be true_. A wrinkled navy blue button-down shirt came into view, his face slowly became more clear. His eyes, those intense blue eyes, his check bones... his hair was shorter, a bit messy on top and... her mind was abuzz.

"How do I know it's really you? You died. I saw you die." She stammered, gun still inches from his face.

He lifted the left side of his shirt revealing a scar from an old bullet wound that once had gone septic in Berlin. The shock of it, and all those memories caused her to drop the gun. It rattled onto the ancient stone floor. She inched backwards and stood in disbelief.

_It wasn't real, she couldn't allow herself to believe this was really real. There had been a funeral._

"Carrie Carrie"  his calm reassuring voice echoed...he reached out a hand and held one shoulder,  
"It's okay."

"No it's NOT!"  
she screamed.  
"I spent the last year grieving for you. I don't believe it, I don't believe it, I don't believe it. This is all in my head".  She started thumping her head, a manic attack was coming on. She tried to move away.

In one quick motion he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace.  
"Come here."  
He felt her body relax and slowly she wrapped her arms around him and completed the hug.  They held each for a long moment, Carrie trying to wrap her head around what was happening. He gently leaned down kissed the top of her head.  They clung to each other.  Another minute went by. He whispered very softly.

"I am ...extremely... reliable."

At those words she lost it. She sobbing into his chest, heaving sobs. That voice. Holding her now, she knew in him.  _This was f* ing real. He was real._   Muffled into his shirt she exclaimed,

"Quinn, thank God you're here."

 

 


	2. Where are we now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where are Carrie and Quinn now? Find out.

Tears streamed down her face, making his shirt damp.  
  
"Why Quinn?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
They pulled back. Arms back at thier sides. Carrie pressed on...  
  
"Why? You were so low, you hated yourself so much, you blamed me for everything. Why are you here now and why are you rescuing me from the Russians?"  
  
"I was worried you'd get yourself hurt."  
  
Carrie huffed. "Yeah right"  
  
"Carrie I'm _not_  rescuing you from the Russians, I had to get out. You knew that I couldn't get out on my own.  This is us getting out....  _together_."  
  
"What the f*? You planned all this?"  
  
"Not all of it. But you had to let me go, if I was ever going to recover. Mostly it had to look real for Saul, Dar, the President, for you, so the agency would stop watching me."  
  
Carrie shook her head in disbelief.  
  
"But the fact Saul was so willing to  **abandon**  you,"he spat out the words in disgust " this became an easy cover to get you away from Saul, the President, everyone."  
  
"You have Russian connections?"  
  
"We have an agreement in place."  
  
She paced around between the pews, up and down the aisle.  The stain glass windows made the sunlight turn colors. Her brain was still spinning.  
  
"So you got me out of Russia, to bring me to a chapel? Where are we?"  
  
"The Adriatic coast. Croatia."  
  
"And I'm just supposed to what, leave everything behind for you?"  
  
"What exactly is there to go back to?"  
  
"Franny for one."  
  
"Yes, Franny, she'll be here Tuesday."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Maggie is flying her in."  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"You don't trust me?"  
A look of repugnance filled his face.  _She was still so f*ing infuriating. Was she really going to question him on this? He died for her, to execute an escape for them. He was obviously going to have to spell it out._  
  
"For  **her**  safety, for  **your**  safety. F* Carrie they were just going to use her as a pawn against you."  
  
"So what, I have to stay here with you?"  
  
"You don't have to do anything."  
_F* was she going to leave? He had thought of a lot of fall back plans, but none involved her choosing to run away._  
  
Confusion racked her brain. She ran her hands through her golden hair.  
  
"I need to get some fresh air."  
  
She walked out through the old chapel doors, the bright sunlight flooded her vision and what she saw surprised her. Before her was a rocky cliff line and beyond that, the sapphire Adriatic Sea glimmered. Beautiful terracotta roofs crept up and down the hillside. An old Volkswagen Karmann sat alone in the dirt parking lot. Quinn nodded towards the car and Carrie followed.  
  
Quinn barely limped as he wordlessly opened her car door. Old habits. She realized his speech had become so clear.  _Maybe he was right, maybe he needed space from her, in order to recover._  The little car roared to life. He handed her an orange prescription bottle and a glass water bottle.   _Always prepared._   She swallowed her meds with one gulp. 

 She wiped her mouth and caught a few sideways glances his direction.  _He definitely seemed stronger, he was sitting up straighter, his skin looked better, his eyes were clear and his confidence seemed to be back._ His shirt shelves were rolled up, exposing his forearms _. Oh god, her mind couldn't go there. How many times had she seen those same arms driving her around?_

Time seemed to fold in on itself.  _Where were they driving to? To stop Javadi from killing his wife? Were they driving in Islamabad to the airport or were they driving home from her dad's funeral? Nope, they were definitely driving along a pristine coastline._   She stared out the window. Carrie watched the world go by, as the road became more narrow. _God, she missed this._ Her body reflectively relaxed. They both seemed to let their minds wander.

"You OK?"

"I don't know what I am.  I'm not sure if I should hate you, for the year you've put me through. I really believed you were dead Quinn."

"Well I hated you for almost killing me in Berlin and then trying to save me again."

"Guess we are even."

They drove along in more silence. Her head began to clear and with it, more questions piled up in her mind, along with building frustration and anger. When she couldn't take it any longer Carrie blurted out,

"Where the hell have you been?" a prickly accusation.

"Trying to f*ing get better....and work on an extraction plan for you and Franny.

"With who?"

"Martha and Lockhart."

More silence,  _it was hard to argue with that._

"You have any questions for me, Quinn? Like how the hell I ended up in this mess?" 

_Like who I've been sleeping with?_

"No, I already know."

"Of course you do."

The tension in the car was rising.  _She could she be any more exasperating_? 

"What do you want me say Carrie? "

_I loved you Carrie._  Thought Quinn.

_Maybe I need to hear that you missed me this year, like I've missed you._  She thought.

"Don't you want to know anything?"  _Anything about me._

With his eyes glued to the narrow road Quinn asked slowly,  
"In Landstuhl you told me, "I'm here, waiting for you"... did you mean it?"

The question took her breath away, what a loaded question. Stunned she stared at him a long moment, anger replaced with honesty.  
"Yes."  
Tentatively she responded,  
"What were you trying to say back?"

She remembered his pleading eyes, as doctors woke him, those eyes trying to communicate with her.

His jaw tightened, a breath, "I've been waiting here too... since...."

The words hung heavy in the air.   _Did he really need to spell it out? Didn't all his actions over the years speak for themselves?_

"Since when Quinn?"

"Since I was the guy running things."

Her mouth went dry.

They both knew they had crossed a line. They had actually spoken out loud, truths they had only guarded in their hearts.

 

 


	3. The man behind the curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My favorite chapter. Quinn has gotten Carrie out of Russia and they are now in Croatia, ready for more answers? Here they come!

They drove farther along the coastline, in a rural area Quinn turned the car up an unpaved road.  Nestled deep into the lovely Istrian countryside, they ventured up to a hilltop cottage with views in every direction.  It was an isolated small, two story stone cottage with sun bleached walls and a terracotta tile roof.  He still knew how to secure a building and he had done his research.  The cottage was surrounded by olive trees and terraced gardens. The hilltop views were incredible. Green vineyards stretched as far as the eye could see inland and in the other direction the azure coastline filled the horizon.  
  
She walked in and studied the old cottage, it was neat, tidy and very cozy. From the kitchen window there were views of the vineyards and looking out the window in the dining room she could see the sapphire sea. Rustic wooden beams were overhead, contrasted with white washed walls.  _Was that a bowl of fresh fruit on the table?  Man, was he trying hard._  
  
She walked up the narrow staircase and Carrie noticed one bedroom had a tiny bed with books and toys stored in woven bins under the window.  She walked into the only other bedroom which contained a simple queen size bed with fluffy,white linens.  _What was he expecting?_  She didn't ask questions, but a thrill did cause her to shiver. _What exactly was implied?_  She opened the bedroom wardrobe to find half a dozen light colored sundresses.  She felt his presence in the doorway, watching her.  She spun around. Leaning against the door jam he causally said,  
  
"Thought you may need something new to wear, it's a lot warmer down here."  
  
Carrie smiled coyly.  
  
"Maybe I should change."  
  
"You're the boss."  
  
He moved back downstairs and she shut the bedroom door.  She picked out a white sundress with tiny, thin, blue strips.  She peeled off the clothes she had spent too many days wearing and thought they were better off incinerated. She found a pair of leather sandals in the closet her size.  _How long had he been planning this?_  
  
Quinn tried not to look at her when she walked back downstairs.  
  
"Want something to drink?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He took two glasses, a bottle and went outside to the green, grapevine covered terrace.  
  
They settled onto the woven chairs that faced the rolling hills of the vineyards. Carrie noticed how effectively he gripped the wine bottle with his left hand as he uncorked it. He poured and handed her the first glass. They slowly sipped their wine.  
  
"Quinn, this was never the plan, we talked about a long con, but you were never suppose to die. "  
  
"Well, after Berlin I had to make adjustments."  
  
"Everything you put me through... the funeral, the sorrow, the grief, it was real." Carrie's tone was dark, accusatory and serious.  
  
"I know, that was the f*ing point".  
He set down his glass.  
"I had to get away from everyone that was watching us. Didn't you feel it? There were so many people out there watching us."  
  
"Where you watching me?"  
  
"I had Max keep an eye on you for me."  
  
"I don't know if I like the idea of you watching me."  
  
_You have no f*ing idea how long I've been watching you._  
  
"Well I've been able to neutralize a few threats that way."  
_I've stopped a few kill orders on you.  Unf*ing grateful._  
"Seriously Carrie, there are deeper things than just the Russians, working against us."  
  
"Not another conspiracy theory."  
  
"Yeah, and what happened last time you didn't believe me?"  
  
_He had a point._  
  
"So what is it?"  
  
"You mean  who is it."  
  
"Fine, who is it?"  
  
"A grand Puppetmaster."  
  
"This is a joke right?"  
  
"No, I'm telling you Carrie he has been trying to destroy us, our character, who we are, what we are meant to do... for a long time."  
  
"Where does his power come from?"  
  
"Corporate sponsors, pride, prestige, ego, acclaim, the idea that art has to be dark, grim and depressing if it's going to be taken seriously."  
  
Carrie rolled her eyes.  
  
"Think about it, he tried to push me out of your life, break me, marginalize my work, who I am to you, rewrite my past, question my motives. All these years he has been trying to take us apart piece by piece. I mean, how many times have you been kidnapped?  How many times have I almost died?"  
  
"He sounds like he wants to be God."  
  
"Exactly. This sh* is even darker than Dar's plans. He wants to strangle every last teardrop out of us."  
  
"So you exacted your revenage by what, faking your own death?"  
  
"I had to beat him to the punch. He had my number and he was going to use every means possible to end me. I had to preempt him. It was pretty easy, after the house explosion, I knew he was coming for me, all I needed was a bulletproof vest and some excellent acting."  
  
"So you're that good huh?"  
  
"Better."  
  
"What is his name?"  
  
"Gansa".  
  
"That's some pretty dark sh* Quinn."  
  
"Well you don't know half of the terrible sh* that went down in Berlin."  
  
They both sat in a few dark memories.  
  
"What does Gansa want with Franny?"  
  
"To keep torturing you, but tearing her away from you."  
Carrie was on the verge of tears at the thought.  
  
"She's a gift Carrie, we can't screw this up.  Protecting her against the Puppetmaster is the most important thing."  
  
Carrie nodded.  
  
"What about Maggie?"  
  
"She's been wanting me to do this for a long time. Since Germany, she realized the only way to get you out, was to get Franny out too.  Why else would she testify in court against you?  We had to keep Franny away from all those eyes.  Maggie wants you to be really free from your old life."  
  
Carrie was too stunned to speak.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Because Gansa was intensely watching you and manipulating everyone in your life. It wasn't safe for you or Franny to be anywhere near me."  
  
"But now?"  
  
"Well now, you are suppose to be a Russian prisoner and Franny is suppose to be with Maggie.  You're pretty safe, now that "they" think you are losing your mind, going off your meds in a dank prison.  Plus, I have sources who believe Gansa is "on hiatus" for the next few months."  
  
Not much Carrie could say to that.  She sipped her wine and watched the sun sink towards the horizon.  
  
"Why does he hate us so much?"  
  
"He's got so caught up in trying to stay relevant to current events, that he has lost sight of who we are, our own character development and the fact that we have a lot more potential together than apart.   
  
"That's f*ed up Quinn.  
  
"I think fear of repeating mistakes from the past have clouded his vision.  Now he just wants tear us down and take us to extremely dark places."  
  
"I don't know if I could have gone much darker Quinn."  
  
"I know.  That's why I had to get you out."  
  
Silence hung heavy.  
  
"So instead of getting an agency exit psychiatric evaluation, you got yourself shot up. Sounds about right." she bristled.  
  
He only shrugged.  
  
"Where did you go to recover?"  
  
"Chicago. RIC, now called Ability Lab. In-patient. 8th Floor. Research based. Robot-assisted walking therapy. They helped me retrain my brain for most functions. "  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you were in Chicago?"  
  
"It wasn't safe for you and I couldn't chance him finding me and disrupting my recovery."   
_I'm sorry it took me so long to get better. I'm sorry I couldn't get you out sooner._  
  
Guilt filled his gut, he had to change the subject, he broke up the dark moment with,  
  
"You hungry? "  
  
"Yeah, I'm starving."  
  
"Good, then let's take the scooter into town."  
  
With her arms around his warm, tight chest they drove back down the little dirt road, to the ocean, to the ancient village of Rabac. They parked the scooter and walked along the promenade by the harbor.  The sea breeze blew the sails of a few fishing boats and small yachts.  They sat outside at a tiny family café. As they sat down their knees touched slightly, a tingle went up her leg, she tried to ignore it. They shared a dinner of truffle risotto, beef stew and homemade gnocchi.  
  
The sun was setting over the water, they relaxed and words were not needed.  Carrie caught him in a few long stares her direction. A boyish grin passed over his face.  _Something was different. Did he look younger? Happier? Relaxed? At peace_? He seemed to ooze tender charm, and tentative, concerned hope. 

_Motherf*, seeing him like this after the last six months felt so good, she couldn't help herself. Was she coyly smiling back? Oh God, what was happening here? How long had this plan been taking shape?_

Well he had had this vision of her, in this moment, since he was living in a desert sh* hole in Syria. He spend those long nights dreaming of taking her away to the sea, watching her beam at him, like a real person, like a real life.  For her, he would do anything. He tried to focus on his food and not what was under her dress, but his mind kept wandering. He tried to look serious, but he was pretty sure she was reading his thoughts. She couldn't stop grinning, ridiculous, they were both ridiculous.

The night air was still warm and salty as they wandered through the labyrinth of old cobblestone alleys layered with hanging laundry and flowering magenta bougainvillea. There were sounds of laughter in the distance and singing. Ever so gently he took her hand in his and they fell in step with each other. Carrie tried to push down the butterflies in her stomach.  _God, they had never done this. Ever. Why was she losing her sh* over holding hands? She couldn't breathe, be cool._

The balmy night, soft village lights and wine started to take effect.  The world felt warm, safe and more joyful then either one could remember. Stars twinkled above as they stopped to look into a shop window selling toys.  As Carrie looked in the window, she felt his breath on her neck.. lingering, waiting.  She felt a soft kiss on the side of her neck. She couldn't breathe, she was afraid she would break this magical spell. Her hands trembled as she turned to face him, staring right into his face, time stopped.  Their noses touched and then, after so many years of of longing they found each other again. His hands were in her hair, he tasted like red wine and truffles. His rough stubble on his cheek, pressed into her face. He smelled so good, her pulse raced in her ears.  As Quinn's large hand moved up her back, over the buttons of her sundress, he whispered in her hair, "I'm sorry".

She pulled back from his face, her lips wet and studied his eyes. With deep intensity, honesty and vulnerability in her eyes, she hoarsely said, "I'm sorry too." A tear rolled down her cheek.

With that six or seven years (who was counting) of heartache, angst, missed opportunities, and mistakes were forgiven. They could never hold a grudge, not really, this was a new chapter. Their forehead touched lightly. Quinn looked over her shoulder, down the street.

"Let's get gelato."

Carrie smiled her first real smile in such a long time. Her took her hand and led her up the cobblestone alley.

Two scoops later and they were back on the scooter, riding up to the hilltop cottage. Silently they entered the front door. Tension, anticipation, excitement, the expectation, the thrill of touching one another. They were both trying to read each others thoughts, to see who would make the first move. As Quinn shut the weather beaten wooden door behind them, she turned and suddenly had him pinned up against it. All the years of wanting, waiting, pining and anguish, finally broke the dam. Intense, hot, focused, loud. At one point he picked her up and Carrie noted how much stronger he was.... but that thought vanished as more of her clothes came off on the way up to the bedroom.

The buttons of her dress came off one by one.

_I worked so hard to get better, be better for you. Special forces, dark ops, "off the book" missions, tireless training, meant nothing compared to learning the fine motor skills needed to unfasten your bra. I waited for you, waited til I could be your equal again. I waited for this._  

He caressed her shoulder and moved his hand down her chest. She gasped with pleasure, he almost lost it.

She was in a race, he took his time, his deliciously, sweet time.  Patiently, meticulously, painstakingly slow, he enjoying each piece of her. She was begging for more of him, but he wanted just her, unhurried and without restraint.  _Was it worth it?  Oh yes, it was worth it._

"About f*ing time Quinn. Let's do it again".

  
*************

Intertwined, sweaty and breathless, she smiled and rolled back on top of him.

"So you think that you can just buy me dinner, some gelato and then do whatever you want with me?"

She playfully pinned him down on the bed.

"Oh I could have had my way with you years ago Carrie." He rolled his eyes. Playful he flipped her over on her back.

She looked up at him, her eyes darkened... "Why not earlier?"

He half sat up, with sorrow in his eyes.

"Because I wanted it to be mutual and real.... and for it last....."

The words clung around them and made her chest ache. So many years of grief and fights, of tension, of worry and suffering.  The guilt, shame, the self hatred that had become apart of her, melted away drop by drop.

She wrapped her arms around his bare torso tightly, she couldn't lose him again.  
She whispered,

"It will last."

It was a promise she had never made to anyone else.

 

 


	4. How long will this last?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More answers ahead, and fluff! Enjoy!

 

By the time the sunlight danced into their bedroom, Quinn was snoring gently, as Carrie examined all of him.  His messy bed hair, those lips she had faithfully put lip balm on in the hospital.  Those hands she knew so well from ballistics training, to climbing walls, slicing his own hand to cover her in blood, to lifeless hands she tendering keep moisturized after his brain hemorrhage, to the fingers he had re-trained to type and write again.   These were all the pieces of him, she knew by heart, no matter how far they tried running away from each other, they kept coming back to this. She ran her hands through his hair, it looked like that night next to his truck, after the whiskey.  Draped in only a sheet, he was long, lean and the deep furrows of his brows and anxiety that typically loomed over his face, were now replaced with just contented peace, as he slept without fear. He was so beautiful and serene she didn't want to wake him.  
  
Without opening his eyes, he murumered,  
  
"You're watching me."  
  
"How long can this really last?"  
  
He opened his eyes and rolled over to face her.  
  
"Seven months, then you go back to Saul. It was part of the agreement with the Russians. " His thumb ran down her jaw line.  
  
"Does Saul know?"  
  
"Hell no. He only cares about his own career."  
  
"That's f*ing harsh."  
  
"He's left you out in war zones, alone, too many times."  
  
He brushed the hair out of her face and pulled her closer to himself.  
  
"You have to go back and beat the Puppetmaster at his own game!"  
  
"But why not say the Russians killed me in custody?"  
  
"Nope, then the US will want a body and an investigation. It would trigger too many questions. It's better if it happens in the US, with lots of witnesses."  
  
Quinn had obviously thought this out.  
  
"I'm sure they'll be a hit out on you and you know someone will have to pull the trigger, take the shot, detantate the bomb."  
  
"Good thing I know a guy with experience." she said with a sly grin.  _God was she smiling more?_   Quinn was definitely back to being capable, confident, in his element. He was back to the guy who was running things.  
  
"Bombs are better... less evidence needed for the coroner."  
  
She shuddered.  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"We go where ever we want, the Australian Outback, a village in the Andes, the French countryside, an island in the Philippines, a ranch out West."  
  
She mulled over what a clean slate could look like.  
  
"Good thing I took out a good size life insurance policy on you, so when you die in a fiery explosion we can collect."  
  
"Wait what?" Her mind was spinning.  
  
"The money."  
  
"Like you care about that. Besides isn't that fraud?"  
  
"Really Carrie? Of all the state, federal and international laws we have broken, insurance fraud has to be the f*ing dumbest one to obsess over now!"  
  
"Unf*ing believable!" she smirked and dove back under the covers.

 **************

The weather was warm and it was perfect for lazy days spent lounging and getting lost in little towns up and down the coast. They tasted wines around the region and contemplated buying an olive oil press. After a long day of wine tasting, they came back to the cottage. Carrie fell into a heap on the coach and Quinn headed for the shower. It wasn't long before he realized he wasn't alone.

"I know you're there."

"Yeah I'm just admiring the view." Her head poked around the corner.

"Come in"  he took her by the hand, clothes and all and brought her into the tiled shower. Eagerly kissing him, he pushed her up against the wall. He lifted up one of her legs, but the soapy floor caused Carrie to slip. She grabbed for Quinn, but not before they both fell onto the tile floor, the shower spray drenching Carrie. They dissolved into giggles.

"Wow, we are terrible at this."

"Speak for yourself Mr. Black Ops."

Quinn reached up and turned off the water.

"Ok, let's start this all over again."  
He stood up and offered Carrie a hand.

Now standing, Carrie moved to grab his pelvis, but he stopped her.

"Nope, let's start with", he reached out a hand formally..." Hi, Peter Quinn" a twinkle was in his eye.

She could play at this game too.

"Carrie Mathison." She shook his hand.

"I like your work."

Carrie impulsively, pressed her whole body against him and started shedding her wet dress. Quinn was unhooking her bra.

"We should have started this years ago" Carrie said breathless between kisses.

"Like when?" He was tugging at her panties.

"Like on every late night stake out and survielence mission."

Quinn stopped, unmoving, still wet and very nude.

"F* Carrie."

"Like the thought never crossed  **your** mind."

_I was forced to hear you f* Brody! Yes, the thought crossed my mind, countless times._

"So what, we need a bank of computer screens and audio equipment in here?  Some bad coffee?

"Max in the corner." Carrie said with a giggle.

"No, f*ing Max."

More uncontrolled laughter. When they got too cold the hot water went back on. They didn't bother getting dressed again.

*********************

On Tuesday, Carrie was overly amped with anticipation.   Franny was coming today.  Carrie could barely keep her hands still when she handed him his morning coffee.  Before they could finish their eggs, they heard a car honk outside. Carrie impulsively ran out front. Virgil drove up with Franny and Maggie in the back.

In a flash Franny was out of the car, with Hop in her hands running towards them.

"Mommy, Mommy."

"I missed you so much Pumpkin." Her chest swelled with so much joy that she couldn't stop the tears. She wrapped up Franny in a huge hug and she kissed and kissed those perfectly soft cheeks.

"Are you crying Mommy?"

"Only happy tears."

Virgil helped unpack the car and leaned over to Quinn,

"How is the honeymoon?"  
Quinn shot him daggers in response.

Next Franny skipped to Quinn, arms outstretched "Hop needs kisses!" Sheepishly Quinn bent down and gave Hop kisses with many an eye glued to him.

Maggie ran interference and drew Carrie aside, "We've been FaceTiming, with him."

Carrie looked hurt..

"Without me?" Anger welled up like a volcano.

"Before you went to Russia, when Quinn was still ironing out your escape." Maggie looked nervous.  "I just wanted to make this transition easier... for Franny."

"Yeah, by cutting me out of it."

"Hey, it was only until you were out and safe. There are no secrets now."

Carrie rolled her eyes, obviously still hurt.

Maggie wanted to smooth things over.  
"You can do this Carrie."

"Yeah."

An awkward silience, Carrie relented.

"I know you're only trying to help Mags.. thanks for everything."

"Of course, I think it's for for best."

"Yes."

Carrie started moving back towards Franny and Quinn.

"And Carrie." Maggie interrupted.

"Yeah."

"He's a good one. I won't be here if I didn't think so. He's good for Franny and mostly I think he's good for you. So don't blow it."

"OK, I got it." huffed Carrie.

"He's been working hard on this. Really, I don't want to see him get hurt."

"Since when do  **you**  care about him so much?"

"Since I saw him volunteer to be a character witness at your psych trial. You thoroughly lost it and he almost punched out a orderly. "

"God, did that really happen?"

"That was a long time ago. But you need faithful friends in your life Carrie."

"I know."

"You look...."  Maggie stopped.

"What?"

"Happy."

 

 


	5. You Ready?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion, I hope you enjoy it!

 

"I'll take two bags of cherries and half dozen nectarines and a cantaloupe."

The open air farmer's market was dotted with red umbrella's. Fruit and food vendors filled the town square.

The young man leaned over and with an overly seductive smile said,

"82 kunas."

Carrie cooed back,  
"Robbery!"

"80, my final offer"  He looking at her like she was something to eat.

Carrie smirked and was ready to double down, when out of nowhere Carrie heard,  
"We'll take it".  
A wad of cash appeared on the fruit sellers cart. A large, rough hand on her back guided her away, while Quinn stared him down like an assassin looking at his target.

"What the hell Quinn? I was still bartering him down!"

"Like hell you were. I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

"He was a boy Quinn, maybe 20?"

"Yeah, exactly, he doesn't stand a chance again your power."

"It was just fruit, Quinn."  Carrie huffed.

"Not to that pervert."

She let it go, she let Quinn pretend to be the hero and save her from wandering eyes!  

_Hilarious really, what was she doing?  What was she doing for him? He wasn't just an asset she was running, she wasn't using him to get the upper hand, this wasn't about control. Wow, she truly trusted him, maybe a part of her always had. She trusted him professionally and personally but when did those lines become so blurred? But God this was scary.  Trust and vulnerability were a two-way street. If they weren't running from bad guys or trying to save the world could they still have enough in common to make it really work?_ His opinion of her mattered to her, more than she wanted to admit.

 As they walked out of the town square a shop owner waved to them exuberantly.

 "Do you know that lady?"

 Quinn blushed and slightly waved to the older women standing her dress shop.

 "Your wife is looking beautiful in that dress."  Her grin was as wide as the ocean.

 "Ignore her Carrie" Quinn said under his breath, plastering a fake smile on his face

 Quinn tried to make them walk by faster, looking for a better exit.

 "Wife my ......"

 "Let it go Carrie."

 "F* no. Who is she?"

 "She helped me acquire your new wardrobe." He admitted sheepishly.

 "Wow and for awhile there I thought you had good taste!"

After all the debacles in the village, Quinn and Franny made a fruit salad, and creamy Spaghetti alla Carbonara for dinner, while Carrie looked for ferry times to surprise Franny with a day trip to Venice.  After bath time Franny did her nightly ritual of declaring,  
"Hop needs a Quinny story and good night kisses."

"She is all yours" announced Carrie, clearing the table.

After a story, a drink of water, a back rub, another story, a hug, a kiss, another drink of water and a song, Franny was finally asleep.  Quinn joined Carrie outside on the terrace.

"You know she can fall asleep on her own. She is just manipulating you."

"I know, but..."

"But what?"

"It's nice to be needed, in real life."

Carrie laughed to herself, _what a sucker!_

"So how did you become so zen about a pedestrian lifestyle?

Quinn was contemplative for a minute.

"I can't do all those things I used to do Carrie. And I don't want to go down that f*ing rabbit hole again. I've worked so hard just to be able to walk, talk and write my name, I can't risk losing it all again."

Carrie nodded, she understood.   _But could she really do it, I mean really be a civilian?_  The sat and didn't say anything for a long while.

"This is fun and all Quinn but I just can't sit around eating pasta for the rest of my life. I'm thinking about becoming a winemaker or maybe writing a novel."

"What kind of novel."

"A spy thriller." she smiled knowingly.

"You should do it, but nothing too cheesy, like the heroine finding clues on people's screen savers or using bad wigs...."

"Touché, touché."

More smiles, they were turning into dorks.  Then Carrie got serious.

"Do you think I'm really exceptional?"

"What the f* Carrie?"

"What?"

"I have never seen anyone as fearless.. you are f*ing incredible."

"Do you think I could ever be incredible again?"

"I think you're going to be more than that, you're going to crush the f*ing Puppetmaster and then start smuggling medical supplies to kids in refugee camps."

"And then what?"

"And then do a little consulting for Max and Virgil".

"Great, surveillance in a van."

"Or you could rescue victims of sex trafficking and get them into protective custody."

Carrie raised an eyebrow.

"What about you?"

"I'm thinking about making you a new kitchen table."

_Great, he's going to become a carpenter, how biblical.  He's had years to plan all this out in his head, I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it._

"Don't worry, Carrie you'll get there."

_But did she really want contentment?_

*******

Carrie was slathered in sunblock, (apparently Russian prisoners don't see a lot of sun)  in the shade of an olive tree, with a hat, writing out notes for her book. At "their" swimming dock, in a sheltered cove near in the cottage.

"Blow more bubbles under the water,  
And relax, I've got you.  
Kick, kick with your legs."

"This is a lot of work Quinny, can you just throw me again?"

Her red, wet curls bounced as Quinn threw her up in air, she splashed into the water, and he caught her up again in his arms.

"Again, Again" she laughed uncontrollably.  
Repeat. repeat. repeat.

"OK Fran, I need a break, then we can go exploring. Let's go see Mommy."

Quinn and Franny came out of the water, his long body glistened as he collapsed onto the towel next to Carrie.  The sun and water looked good on him. He kissed her bare shoulder softly.

"She's getting a lot better. Maybe we should take a boat out and go island hopping next week."

"Uh, ummm," Carrie was deep in her notebook building her spy thriller plot.

"I also promised Fran I'd make cookies with her tonight."

"OK"

"Something Gansa would never allow."

"Fine."

"Carrie are you listening to me?"

"What?"

"Carrie, focus, cookies."

"Yes, Quinn.. you have a million ideas of things you want to do... with Franny", she said slightly annoyed.

"Oh and you too." he said with a mischief smile.

Carrie looked over her notepad.

"OK you have my attention now."

"You just think about it Carrie." There was a twinkle in his eye.

 That phrase, hearing him say those words, make a lump in her throat.  She could only nod back.

_I never stopped thinking about you. How many years had that been true? How many years did I just want to know you were still alive?_

 Quinn and Franny wandering off, hand in hand to go explore the cove, while Carrie's mind raced.

_Was this really her real life? Was she really going to go home with him tonight only to corner him in the kitchen and have her way with him? Yes she was, with no apologies. What a bunch of domestic f*ing nerds they had become. What a dad Quinn had become._   Her heart ached it felt so happy.

***********

They spent their time exploring the islands that speckled coastline. Franny learned to swim in those beautiful clear waters with all the different shades of emerald. They drove up to the soaring highlands of along the picturesque Cetina Gorge. They explored the ancient town of Motovun.  For her birthday Quinn surprised with a day trip the to the a beautiful little hilltop village of Groznjan during their annual Jazz festival.

Together they took the two and half hour ferry from Porc over to Venice with Franny. After touring, Piazza di San Marco, the Ponte di Rialto, they feasted on more pasta and Zeppole. The sun began to set and it was time to head back home. She instinctively held out her little hand to take his, her little face beaming, as they crossed back onto the ferry boat.

Franny was tired from the heat of day, cranky and in need of a nap. She found her storyteller, to weave a tale of fearless maidens and dragons that roasted marshmallows. With heavy eyelids and her round cheeks pink from the sun, she snuggled deep in his lap, with her arm draped around his neck.  Aimlessly she fingered the back of his collar until her head tipped to his chest, asleep in his arms. Before they reached the Croatian coast, Quinn's chin rested on her head, both of them gently snoring.

 Sitting across from them, she felt like she was finally waking up to her life.

_Priorities, what were her priorities? In her old life she'd be still sitting alone in a Russian jail, literally losing her mind .. for what? To prove a point? To end more violence?  F*ing no.  The killing and bombing would continue. Mostly she realized_ _she'd be missing out on right now, what was literally right in front of her, these memories. This day with Franny, this time with Quinn._

_What was her greatest joy?_

_What was better than a hundred stars on a wall?_

_This moment... the wind in her face, her long hair whipping around the salty air.... how many more chances would she get at this?_

_She only had to die one more time, in order to be set free._

_She had to make it count._

*******  
On a pitch black night.

"You ready? You got it?"

"Yes, Quinn you've told me a thousand times." She barked back irritated over the radio.

"You won't be alone."

"Yeah.." but she wasn't really listening.

"Whatever you do, don't f*ing.... Carrie, Carrie. Get back, get back. That's an order god damn it, tell me you copy." 

  _He was losing it. Like he could bark orders to her? She was pretty sure she out ranked him and anyway, he was legally dead._

She could be stubborn too. She dropped the mirco-transponder into the mud and watched it sink.  She didn't want to hear him have an aneurysm in her ear.  She knew what she had to do.

She turned the corner and under the cover of darkness, she was ready to face the bridge and him.  She was prepared. With bedraggled long hair and a black parka she was ready for her performance on the bridge. When she was dragged out in front of Saul, she was ready, she was all in. Ready to act crazy "off her meds", wear drab business suits and put her cry face on. It would be her greatest performance.

But our bodies don't lie and deep within her, she was carrying evidence of her 7 months of honeymooning.  She didn't dare tell Quinn, because he would never let her back into the field. But this was her last job, her last season and she was ready, whatever Gansa had to torture her with, she was on her way out. Out with a bleak, tormented bang, then on the other side, they would start again, when no one was looking, when all the cameras were off, and all the players had gone home.  When everyone thought it was finally the end, it would actually be a new beginning, a new baby, a new life. She was finally going...  home.

The end

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration behind this story:
> 
> I kept thinking about how amazing 7x12 could have been if before the time jump Carrie was drugged or kidnapped away from Yevgeny, in the night, by a guy in a black hoodie, (with just the hint of his cheekbones shown). We would collectively have lost our minds if the cliffhanger left us wondering if Quinn himself had actually rescued her from a Russian prison! What an amazing way to set up season 8! Where did Quinn take Carrie? Has Quinn recovered more? Will Carrie and Quinn spend next season crusading against Saul and Dar? Where in the world would they be next season?? Oh a girl can dream. Hugs.
> 
> Some imagining of their stone cottage in Croatia....
> 
> https://www.vrbo.com/605140ha  
> https://www.vrbo.com/1880472ha


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